Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree (With Anyone Else But Me)
by justicemuffins
Summary: On a team outing to an apple orchard, Steve just wants to have a talk. He should know better than to expect privacy beneath an apple tree. (Capsicoul)


**DISCLAIMER:** But really what's the point of these anymore? Anyway, don't own anything. Including the title. It's a great song. Go listen to it. Now.

* * *

"You know, when you said 'team building exercise' I'll admit I wasn't thinking of apple picking," Steve says, tossing the bright red fruit in the air and catching it, enjoying the satisfying smack of it against his palm.

"I was picturing something more like… Quantico," Tony intones, munching on the one he'd picked. "Or Gitmo. Or American Gladiators. Hey, maybe I should renovate one of the gyms and get some of those giant ear swabs and we can—"

Pepper chooses that moment to shove an apple in Tony's open mouth, effectively shutting him up. The genius glares, rolls his eyes and takes an obnoxiously loud bite, just to spite them all, it seems. If he can't be loud talking, he'll sure as hell be loud eating.

Phil watches with some amusement as the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, can't quite seem to wrap their minds around the concept of something as simple as apple picking. Granted, Clint is already climbing up a rather large tree, but the rest of them hardly seem to know what to do with themselves. Aside from Pepper. Pepper almost certainly knows what to do with herself (and everyone else, bless her). Thor seems ready to tackle it with his usual enthusiasm, which is to say enough enthusiasm for several grown men. Natasha presents an unreadable front as usual, but all that really means is that she doesn't feel like letting anyone know she's planning on enjoying herself. Bruce actually seems a bit more relaxed than usual; perhaps because due to the fact that Phil had S.H.I.E.L.D. limit the amount of people allowed into the orchard that day.

Is it an inappropriate use of power? Perhaps. But he figures after being stabbed in the back and dying—three times, he might add—he's allowed at least one act of abuse of power. Besides, they'd all earned a day to relax.

"No, Mr. Stark, just apple picking," he assures the man with genial smile.

"Yeah, but… why?" Tony asked around a mouthful of apple.

"Teambuilding," Phil states simply.

Tony offers him a flat stare. "Trying to get answers out of you is like trying to get answers out of a damn Sphinx."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Phil says. "Thor, typically when one goes apple picking, they don't eat them as they pick them."

He hears Pepper and Bruce smothering laughter as the god of thunder looks to them curiously, his cheeks rounded out where they're stuffed with apples and juice dribbling down his chin.

"Can we enter him into a pie eating contest?" Tony asks.

Thor swallows looking a bit guilty. "I apologize, Son of Coul, I was unaware that this was forbidden."

"Not forbidden, just… you might want to take some home with you," Bruce explains. "That's all."

"He could probably just rip out a whole tree," Clint says from somewhere in the leaves above them.

"Don't give anyone any ideas, please," Phil says as they stroll along.

"I don't think I've been apple picking since I was a little girl," Pepper hums, plucking a particularly ripe looking specimen from a branch above her.

"I've never been," Steve adds to that.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. Captain America's never been apple picking?" Clint says, reappearing as he hangs upside down from a tree limb.

Steve colors slightly. "Yeah, well… I just never had the opportunity."

"I'm surprised Coulson didn't drag you to the nearest orchard the second he met you," Natasha says, holding up the basket so Clint could deposit his armful of apples. "It's practically a trademark initiation."

"Is that what this is? You're going to take us out into the cornfields, aren't you?" Tony says, wagging a finger at Phil. He looks to the group at large. "Ten bucks says this ends in blood sacrifice."

"It's a relaxing, enjoyable group activity that I thought would provide a change of pace," Phil says. "You've all worked hard with the cleanup, so I convinced Fury that a little time off would do everyone good."

"Well, I think it's a great idea. I love apples," Steve says, looking around the orchard.

"Of course you do," Tony remarks, huffing as Pepper jabs him in the side.

They remain more or less a group as they continue on, though they seem to break off into smaller groups as time passes. Phil is unsurprised by the fact that Steve remains stuck to his side like glue. Ever since he'd woken up from his coma to the sight of Captain America asleep in the chair beside his bed, the super soldier had become a near constant presence I his life. At first, he assumed it was some sense of misplaced guilt that kept Steve around—and, at first, he _knows_ it was—until it got to the point where it seemed like the man genuinely _wanted_ to be there.

Needless to say, it throws him a bit of a curve sometimes.

"You went apple picking as a kid, I take it?" Steve asks, his voice cutting through Phil's thoughts.

"Once, with my father, when I was very young. My brother and I went occasionally when we got older, but it's been a rather long time," Phil answers.

Steve nods with a hum. "Must've been nice."

"It was. I think this is something everyone needs to try at least once," Phil says.

"You know, I think you might be right. Thanks for setting this up, by the way. Not what I was expecting, like I said, but it's a great idea," Steve tells him. "I'm having a great time. I think we all are."

"I'm glad to hear it, Captain."

He hears the taller man laugh. "Am I ever going to get you to call me 'Steve'?"

"Habit. I apologize," Phil counters.

He shifts his basket of apples from his left hand to his right, hoping Steve doesn't notice.

Steve notices.

"You doing all right?" the super soldier asks with some concern.

"Fine, thank you," he responds easily enough.

Steve's watching him from his peripheral vision, he can tell. The man hasn't bought a word of it. In truth, it really is nothing. Phil's just a little sore. But then, given that he was still undergoing physical therapy and had been warned that cooler weather might not agree with him, it was to be expected. The damage had been extensive; frankly he's amazed that they managed to piece him back together at all.

"You know, I think I'll sit down for a bit," Steve announces. "Make sure there are no worms in these apples. Would you mind sitting with me?"

Phil can spot the ruse clear as day. They both know it. They also both know that Phil won't refuse the request. So the two of them sit beneath a decently sized tree, watching as the others continue forward, oblivious to their absence. At one point Thor lifts Bruce so he can reach a rather high branch and even from where they sit, they hear laughter.

"It's good to hear Bruce laugh," Steve remarks.

"Yes, it is," Phil agrees. "It's an unfortunate rarity."

He places his hands in the pockets of his jacket and leans back against the tree. The air is crisp and clean and sweet in the way it is only in autumn orchards. It really was a great idea, he reflects, and he closes his eyes for a moment. He's not one to let his guard down long enough for anything other than the span of time it takes to blink, but when Steve's around, he sometimes gets a little lax in that area. Likely due to the overwhelmingly protective aura that the soldier gives off.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he hears Steve say, just as he feels a light touch at his elbow.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to look at the other man. "I'm absolutely positive. I'm just a little sore, nothing out of the ordinary."

"If you're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Steve's quiet for a moment, apparently having accepted this as a valid answer. Phil watches the super soldier twist the stems from a few apples before the man looks back to him again.

"Do you think we could talk?" Steve asks, exuding a very serious aura.

"Of course," Phil answers readily. "What about?"

"Well…" Steve begins. He stops, seemingly unable to move past that point for the next couple of heartbeats. "I'm not sure how to say any of this, to be honest."

"Take your time," Phil instructs gently. "It'll come to you."

Steve rolls an apple between his hands and nods. "Right."

It's another five minutes of silence before he hears the soldier speak again.

"I like spending time with you," Steve says quite suddenly, as though this is some terrible secret he's been clutching to his breast for months.

"Thank you for saying so. And likewise," Phil answers, the corners of his lips tugging ever so slightly upward.

"Yeah," Steve says. "Yeah. And I just wanted to say that I'm glad we're friends. I'm really glad you wanted to be even after everything."

"Steve," Phil says warningly. "We've been over this."

"I know, I know," Steve sighs, waving a dismissive hand. "That's really not what I want to talk about, I swear. But it's important to what I want to say, so I had to bring it up."

"If this dissolves into another discussion of your misplaced guilt, I'm walking away," Phil warns him.

"It won't," Steve promises. "I know better than that now. But the point I'm trying to make with that is how I've come to begin to find my place here. When we first met, I wasn't in a good place. I'd lost everything and, frankly, didn't see much of a point to anything. All of you have changed that. You especially. And I suppose I'd just like to thank you."

Phil shakes his head. "It's not something that requires thanks. The Avengers Initiative was a gamble, because we needed the perfect team. What I think everyone failed to see was the value of its _im_perfections. I believed that it would be those imperfections that would hold you all together, that being around people of a like-kind would, in fact, be beneficial to all of you. Believe me when I say you've helped the others just as much as they've helped you."

"And you."

"Yes, you've helped me, too."

"No, I mean _you've_ helped _me_."

Phil shrugged. "No more than anyone else."

"This is one of those arguments that you win, isn't it?" Steve inquires in a flat tone.

"Best to quit while you're ahead," Phil returns with a chuckle.

Steve sighs.

"Well. Anyway," he says. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. And a lot of reading because this particular subject was confusing back in my day and it just seems like it's gotten even more confusing since then."

He taps an index finger against the apple in his hand.

"I'm trying to move forward. I can't get back the things that I've lost, but I can make a place for myself here and now. I've been doing an awful lot of sitting still since you found me in the ice and, really, that's never suited me," Steve explains. "I'm more open now to the possibilities of moving forward, having the things I thought I might never have."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Phil remarks. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"I don't want to assume anything," Steve says, focusing his intense gaze on Phil. "But at the same time, I don't want to be a coward either, so I—"

Steve stops short, blinking in confusion as falling apple cuts off his sentence by bouncing off his head. For a moment they sit there staring at each other before they look up. Phil sighs.

"_Clint_," Steve grates.

"Sorry, sorry. Took more than I could carry," Clint admits, nestled in the branches high above them. "Just pretend I'm not here."

Phil is surprised by the look of agitation on Steve's face as the soldier stands, brushing his pants off.

"I'm just going to catch up with the others," he announces.

Phil rises with him, albeit more slowly. "It's best if we get moving anyway. Clint, don't stay in that tree forever. And Natasha, please make sure you both catch up. We're only here until four o'clock."

The red-headed assassin appears from her own tree, tossing them both a knowing smirk before lecturing Clint on spying on people. As they walk onward, Phil notices that Steve has grown silent. Curiously so, in his opinion. He asks the taller man if he still had something to say.

"No, it was nothing," Steve assures him, flashing him that patented Captain America smile. "Nevermind."

Phil drops it, not interested in pressing the matter if Steve doesn't want to continue the discussion. But considering the man only uses that smile on him these days if he's hiding something, Phil decides he'll put it on the backburner.

* * *

When all is said and done, Stark tower can be very cozy when Tony wants it to be. He's outfitted the deck with a fire pit, arranging various pieces of furniture around it. That's where Phil finds Steve later that evening, when the sun has gone down and the air has grown cold enough so that he can see his breath. The others are inside, having had their fill of the cool weather, apparently.

The super soldier's distant affect had remained in place for the rest of their apple picking trip and even when they'd returned home. So Phil decided to do something about that. He approaches the man, holding out one of two steaming mugs in his hand. Steve looks up, surprised.

"Mind if I join you?" Phil asks.

"I don't mind," Steve says, accepting the mug offered to him. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. Although, I'd wait a minute to drink that, it's—"

"_Hot_," Steve exclaims, having taken a sip without waiting, clearly burning his tongue. "Oh, but that's good…"

"I thought you might like that," Phil hums, blowing on the contents of his own mug.

"You even put cinnamon sticks in here," Steve says with a laugh.

"No better way to drink hot apple cider," Phil declares, taking the open seat beside Steve. He holds the mug between his hands, not drinking from it, but instead enjoys the warmth the hot beverage offers. It really is rather chilly out. He looks to the super soldier who, amusingly, seems to be warring between having the patience to wait until the drink has cooled and just drinking it straight up, burns be damned. "Are you in the mood for discussion?"

Steve sips at his mug pensively. "Right, sorry about that earlier. That was kind of rude."

"It was understandable, being interrupted when you're trying to figure out how to communicate something that's giving you some difficulty," Phil answers, still with his hands wrapped around his mug. "It's hard to begin again once the mood's been ruined. Having said that, you don't have to continue if you don't want to. If you'd rather not, I'll respect that. Only please answer one question for me."

"And what's that?"

"Are you okay?"

Steve meets his eyes then.

"I'm… not sure," Steve admits, reluctantly.

"Okay," Phil says, nodding. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Steve looks at him, studies him, for such a long while that Phil begins to wonder just what's going on in the man's head. His brows are drawn together in a concerned frown, his lips a flat line as his eyes bore into Phil's. He's clearly having a fierce internal debate, but about what Phil's not sure. He replays their conversation over in his head, trying to find its direction. Is Steve contemplating leaving the Avengers? He'd spoken of moving forward, but it had been unclear what he'd meant by that.

"Before anything else, please let me apologize in advance," Steve says.

Phil doesn't get to ask what about because in the next instant, Steve presses his lips to Phil's. It's perhaps the briefest, most chaste kiss he's ever had—the equivalent of a peck on the cheek, he thinks—but somehow also the most meaningful.

"I, uh…" Steve says as he draws back, clearing his throat. "I couldn't figure out how to say it exactly. This kind of thing, I don't know how to handle it. Taking action, that's something I know how to do. So I took it."

Phil remains silent, trying to process what's just happened.

"So how far out of line was I?" Steve asks, looking as though he's bracing himself for the sky to fall on his head.

"Well," Phil says, willing his voice to remain steady, "I think I'd need to try that again before I could give you an answer."

Steve looks at him blankly for a heartbeat.

"I can do that," he replies, leaning forward once again.

Phil isn't sure how or why this is happening, exactly, but he figures he'll focus on working out the details later. Right at that moment, Steve is kissing him and fisting a hand in his sweatshirt as though the soldier thinks he might disappear at any moment. He knows Steve must have set his cider down because the man's large, warm hand cupping his face is a sharp contrast to his wind-chilled skin. He can taste apple and cinnamon on Steve's lips which, strangely, is what he'd sometimes fantasized the man might taste like. The cider seems a remarkably fortuitous choice right then.

Eventually they part, each drawing back like fighters to their separate corners. Steve watches him with such a look of uncertainty that it brings a smile to his face.

"I think I can say with a degree of certainty that your actions were very much out of line, according to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fraternization policy," Phil informs him.

"That so?"

"Yes. Thankfully Director Fury owes me several favors. I'm certain that he'd be more than willing to make an exception, provided one thing."

"What would that be?"

"I need to know that you're serious about this."

He doesn't want to ruin the moment. But it needs to be addressed before he lets himself get swept head over heels. Surprisingly, Steve seems prepared for this. Even more surprisingly, Steve seems to have boarded his train of thought.

"I couldn't be more serious," he says. "It's why I spoke to Fury myself."

"I'm sorry?" Phil says, perplexity coating his words.

"I wanted to make sure I had a leg to stand on when it came to you and I wanted to do this proper," Steve explained. "So I guess you could say I got his blessing."

Phil makes an honest attempt at digesting this.

"I just had to convince him that I don't see you as being an easy target because you're a Captain America fan any more than you see me entirely as Captain America. You see the man beneath the suit, I know you do. You've demonstrated that numerous times since we've met. I'm hoping my actions prove to you that I'm interested in the man behind the trading cards. It took me five separate attempts, but I finally managed to get Fury to believe me," Steve tells him honestly.

Phil falls quiet again.

"Would you have dinner with me?" he asks.

"Yes," Steve answers without hesitation.

"Good," Phil says, nodding his head as a slow smile forms on his face.

A date. With Steve Rogers. Who would have thought? He feels the blonde settle beside him, feels a strong arm wrap around his shoulders. He leans into the touch, giving Steve the sign that his action is not unwanted.

"I'm glad we talked," Steve says.

Phil chuckles. "Me too."

"I love fall," Steve hums as they huddle together in front of the fire. "We should go apple picking again."

Phil can't help but agree.


End file.
